Treating Bill Zeller

That's Bill Zeller on the front page of  1000 Memories, a collection of memorabilia sure to break your heart.  Great-looking, a brilliant young man, best known as the creator of MyTunes, an enhancement of iTunes, and Zempt, another technical upgrade, this one for movable type.  A computer programmer with more potential than any one person needs, splashed the news  January 5, 2011 with his suicide. 

He left us a note that does a more than adequate job of explaining why he did it. (It might be good to read that before reading on, not sure.)  He could explain why, but he wasn't a therapist, didn't know how to save himself.  Like most people who take their lives, he had to get out of the pain.  It's so hard to read about a case like this (he's now a case), because not only is the story going to be sad, but there's no happy ending. 

Some people blame bad therapy, which he likely suffered.  He describes detached, clinical treatment.  There's a reason doctors detach, there's so much secondary trauma in this work, absorbing the pain of the patient (you have to be infected some) and living, if vicariously, the trauma.

But sometimes it is the patient who is hurt, call it incest redoux (once again), if he pays for a lack of professional attention, for professional indifference.  Bill Zeller made an effort, took the a chance, played the Lotto for professional understanding, desirous to rid himself of the cloud, talking to the likes of us.  Only to find the cloud follow him out the door.

Gizmodo:

Zeller was a victim of sexual and psychological abuse. It's clear from his writing that the abuse left him unable to interface with the world in any way that didn't leave him feeling he was too sullied to have the same experiences that he thought others had. He had a self-described "darkness", which despite his prostration it's clear he handled more ably than perhaps he ever realized.

Programming was a solace, but only temporarily. Zeller never felt he could escape the things that had happened to him because he carried his torment with him everywhere.

Yes, it is that painful. Rape kills.

Body memories, terror, an invasion that is gruesome, hurts, overpowers, shames, confuses and traps, sullies, violates, and won't let go.

How does one recover a sense of separateness, wholeness, integrity, goodness-- when someone else has declared possession?  When someone else has enslaved, degraded, etched memories, sensory memories, physical feelings within one's very body, soul?  The self is no longer one's self, but a shared object, something someone has used, over and over again.  Abused.  That's the word.  The crime, heinous.  Taboo everywhere, all over the world, incest.

We talk about wanting to share our life with others, having a partner, joining, intimacy, making a family, maybe.  Where there is an incest wound this is particularly difficult.  Intimacy is going to be difficult at all levels, all of the intimacies are difficult, but especially sexual intimacy.


Therapy doesn't just work with young adult incest survivors who come to us frustrated with efforts at socialization, more than a few failed relationships, feeling the need to meet sexual expectations, human expectations.  And sex therapy doesn't just work, either.  It is a stretch to have what is considered a a normal, intimate sexual relationship when touch isn't pleasure, but is associated with pain.  Initiating touch, or the very experience of another initiating touch, is packed with terrifying memories and dread, anxiety.

This isn't fun, this isn't goodness, this certainly isn't holy or sanctified. It isn't even pleasure for the sake of mutual pleasure, forget the blessings of commitment.  A survivor of childhood sexual abuse does not usually enjoy sex, not without a head trip.  Libido is confusing, associated with shame.  Therapy must address all of the above, all of the trauma, and more:

Who am I?
Why am I?
Why me?

There are many objectives of such a therapy.  Self-esteem, for one.  A fresh cognitive assessment of one's life, two.  Loving oneself, three.  Becoming a social person, four.  Somehow capturing that self and rewiring it, inhabiting the same place, the one with all the memories, in a different way, being inside a shell that must symbolize a new identity.  This is the goal.

The body memories?  How does one get rid of these?  So complicated, that these will remain, lie side by side, parallel to sensual pleasure, but they can.  In the process of reclaiming, redefining, re-identifying self, they must be ignored, as if they don't belong, don't matter.  Willfully set aside, the focus is on a new relationship, a good, loving relationship that needs love back. All in good time.

Working a therapy like this is hard, and a support group or three, has to be a part of it.  Holding onto that new identity, A Survivor, is experiencing the self as clean, good.  Knowing.  A person with something very important, perhaps, to teach others.

It can be very difficult, very painful, very sad, but then, there is a happy ending.

Except not always.  Most survivors suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or Acute Stress Disorder, and a myriad of accompanying affective disorders, depression and anxiety primarily.  But incest can make some people so sick that they can never get a grip on a therapeutic relationship, can't sustain one, or so it seems.  One of the ways that children survive incest is to split off, disassociate from the assault at the very moment it is happening, become someone else, invent a second, third, a fourth identity.  Fall into a trance, a happy dream. The goal for a person with this disorder is different, demands an integration of the many identities, or exile.  This is Dissociative Identity Disorder and it is unarguably one of our most challenging disorders to treat. 

Mr. Zeller didn't have it, not from what we can tell from his writing.  Brilliant, it seems he stayed Bill, a guy who played tennis and got good grades and fought depression all of his life.  And lost. 

We don't know if he ever confronted the perpetrator.  If he had, and if the perpetrator apologized, if the animal owned his offense, then Mr. Zeller might have had a better chance at beating his darkness.

Chloe Madanes, the spouse of Jay Haley, a father of family therapy, offers a powerful family therapy technique:

(1) The victim holds court.  The perpetrator is literally forced down on his knees (or her knees).

(2) On his knees the perpetrator begs forgiveness, acknowledges wrong-doings, admits everything. This person is more than contrite, he is disgusted with himself, ashamed, moribund, dying inside for having committed an act that is so perverse, so cruel, taboo.

(3) If the apology is sincere, and if it is accepted, the perpetrator proposes amends.   (I don't remember if Madanes' protocol works this way, but mine does-- apology first, amends later).  After the apology, the perpetrator offers to pay for all of the therapy, past and future, or to pay for a college education, a down payment on a house. Something.

Never happened for Bill Zeller, is the guess, raped by someone repeatedly, systematically, he alludes to it being a family member.  Bill was a little boy, the note suggests the rapes first memories.  Had he told a teacher, had he known to tell someone, he may have been spared.

So we clearly have to teach about child abuse in schools, for that is where the children are.

Child abuse education won't be taught at home, not in the homes that are breeding grounds for this barbarity.  For child abuse is often transgenerational, passed down from one generation to another.  It is learned behavior.  Not always, but percentage-wise, learned. Family therapists see all kinds of gradations, variations on a theme, from one generation to the next, each saying, Mine was worse.

The suicide note, in its entirety,  should be read by everyone old enough to understand cause and effect.  Mr. Zeller requested that it be circulated. He knew that he had something to say, something very, very important, more important than whatever he could create as a programmer, an identity he established to distract from his darkness.

Read it and know that people learn to perpetrate sexual violence from people close to them, that sexual violence is usually a family affair, that 48% of all acquaintance rape is right there, it is in the family, and 90% of all rape is acquaintance rape.

Makes a case, to plug the profession, family therapy. At some point, family therapy.

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The Art of Validation

I think you know that a couples therapist generally directs the traffic.

I'll say, "Talk about this." Or "Yes, go there; talk to her about that."

So people will be talking and I'll be listening and thinking, wondering where it will all go, and inevitably I'll hear one of the partners reflexively shoot back those fighting words:

"Yes, but. . "

This is a call to pandemonium, although it can start out quietly. Yes, but. . . generally means the listening is over, the race to communicate has begun.

I'll have to interrupt and exclaim, "No, foul! Don't do this! No Yes, buts. These are dysfunctional. Yes buts. . . are dysfunctional."

Nobody wants that, to add to the dysfunction, so couples listen up to hear the following lecture.

Lecture #379, THE ART OF VALIDATION or WHY YOU SHOULD USE ALL OF YOUR EMOTIONAL ENERGY TO HARNESS YOUR WORDS AND NEVER SAY, 'YES BUT'

Saying Yes, but. . . invalidates the other person. It's as if the listener hasn't heard the speaker, yet disagrees anyway. Validating, by contrast, is the process of saying, I hear you, this is what you said, . . .I get it.

After that, it's okay to disagree.

But by jumping to Yes, but one doesn't prove he or she has really heard anything. And people want to be heard.

And worse, there's absolutely nothing in the Yes of Yes, but, that says to the speaker that the listener is even interested in the speaker's thoughts.

The word yes all by itself is like, Uh, huh. It's a nod. If the nod is immediately followed a dismissive personal monologue, or worse, a defense, then rather than feeling validated, the speaker thinks the "listener" has been working up that defense while feigning listening.

To make a person feel heard, to validate someone, you need more than a Yes, but and your spin on the subject.

It would be different if all you're talking about is food. A person asks, "Would you like garlic bread?" and the other responds, Yes, but only one piece. This communicates a desire for garlic bread, one piece. Nice, clear communication. In this case, Yes is Yes, I want some garlic bread. Crisp.

But when someone's trying to communicate about something less tangible, perhaps a feeling or a problem, it's not going to fly if the listener lobs a Yes, but.. which sounds a lot like a So what.

It's as if the listener would like to say, My feelings are the ones that matter here. Listen to me if you don't mind, listen to me now that you've finally stopped talking. I thought you never would.

Nice.

That now familiar phrase, It's not about you, comes directly from communication theory. Communication and family therapists have been saying this gently for over fifty years, It's not about you, dear, to couples in relationship therapies.

This whole area of communications theory, validating people's feelings and words, is really about seeing the meta-messages, the messages about messages. If I don't validate, then I don't give the message that I've really heard, I haven't taken in what you've said. And healthy relationships, believe it or not, really are about give and take.

The fun is really in the giving for mature adults. Both give, both get; parochial school fund raising without the glitter. But we're not talking about money, here, we're talking about intangibles like service, smiles, time, love.

When it comes to communication, when a person speaks, he's giving his thoughts. A partner listens, takes them in. If the listener doesn't take well, the giver is deprived of the giving, which is an insult, a returned gift. Unopened.

So taking well is the key role in communication, once your partner has found the courage to communicate something important to you. Once that happens, everything hinges on the taking. This is why therapists always push couples to validate what one another says, to communicate reception.

Validating what you hear is the thank you note of communication. It's an art, but an easy one. The art is in the expression, how you look at the other while talking; how you look when you talk. It's in the eyes, the mouth.

You don't have to agree at all with what someone is saying to do this, validate well.

Last week FD and I saw the new Indiana Jones movie. (WARNING, MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS) We shared our feelings about it. He said he liked it.

"You liked it?"

"Uh, huh. Did you?" He's curious.

"Too many bugs."

"I know. But I kind of liked them." He looked at me like, You forgive me for that, don't you, for kind of liking the bugs?

I pause, raise an eyebrow. "The snake didn't scare me," I say as a peace offering, a joining statement.

"That was a fine snake. Excellent use of the Harry Potter theme."

"It was. I felt it helped me get over the first Indiana Jones movie, not being afraid of the snake. And I really liked the ET theme."

"You liked that? I thought it a little too corny."

See? Not a single Yes, but. . .

But it doesn't really illustrate the art of validation very well. Recreational intimacy generally doesn't require all that much validation.

Validation is important, indeed crucial, when people are sharing their innermost thoughts about things that matter to them.

A person shares something meaningful, a fear or a sadness, perhaps. If the listener indicates, with either body language, words, or both, that he or she really appreciates what's been said, then there's an immediate sense of connectedness, closeness. Good vibes. It feels like applause, such respect for the other person.

Without this, people sometimes look for intimacy outside of their primary relationships. And it's not always a good thing. We want to be taken seriously. We want what we say to "take." And we like applause.

Validation is, Thanks for sharing; thanks for your opinion. You're saying. .

The words are repeated back, word for word if possible.

So what you're saying is. . .

I believe what you mean is . . .

And you throw in a healthy serving of empathy, the real gift. I can see why you'd say that. I see where you're coming from. You must feel . . .(horrible, happy, scared, etc.)

Your partner matters. You've said, "You're smart, thoughtful, deep."

Lecture's over.

Now. Repeat all that back to me.

copyright 2008, therapydoc

A Year Later

Cham said, Ma, you don't blog so much anymore.

It's not true, but you're right, it's not an everyday thing because (a) you don't need this everyday, and (b) you don't need this everyday.

And you know I have a thousand drafts, so when I'm ready to publish I go over them and push the button, come what may and often, dismay.

But Cardiogirl commented on an old post, and I reread it, and wow, it's been a whole year since then and maybe those of you who are new readers should read this to get a feel for where we're coming from here at ENT.

There are some errors. For example, I say:

Individual therapists have the right to say they treat families and couples, but I'm sorry, they don't KNOW family therapy. In their heads it's still more likely to be about the patient/doctor relationship and how the doctor can get the patient (the most dysfunctional member of the family) to behave differently.

It's not obvious that I mean that the identified patient is usually not the most dysfunctional person in the family. People just assume that they are, and they're often way off base.

The other real problem with the post is that there are too many dashes. Psycho-analysis. Psycho-dynamic. Feed-back. Psycho-education. Polly-ann-ish. G-d.

It's called On Self-disclosure and Family Therapy And it's long. But at least there's no mention of fish, plants (read the post below), skis or religion.

Or even sandwiches. Which is a problem, I feel.


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